


Acceptance

by BalefireFlatlands



Series: Sold For Parts [9]
Category: Mad Max (Video Game 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2019-09-19 20:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17008755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BalefireFlatlands/pseuds/BalefireFlatlands
Summary: Scab's jealous, Jeet is having feelings, and poor Blas has no idea what to do.





	Acceptance

“What is that sound?” Jeet narrowed his eyes at Blas who uncharacteristically avoided eye contact and shuffled his feet.

“Nothing?”

The scrawny chemist was a terrible liar and Jeet stalked closer, eyeing the box under his arm, “That don’t seem like nothing.”

Looking awkward and embarrassed, Blas offered up the carton, “Don’t hurt her!”

With a start like that Jeet knew this was not going to end well and he hesitantly opened the box, met with a small black paw attacking his thumb and the teensiest of mews. Voice stern he glared over the flaps of the container, “Blas.”

“I found her outside by the dumpster. I was gonna take her home to feed her.”

Jeet lifted the tiny black kitten out of the box, groaning as it started throatily purring at him. “You already named this thing didn’t you?”

“Remington. That’s what was on the box.”

Squirming to hold onto the now wriggly kitten that wanted to climb his shirt, Jeet sighed deeply, "You can’t keep it. So don’t get attached.”

“Why not!?” Blas grabbed the kitten from out of Jeet’s hands and possessively cradled her to his chest, letting her claw up the argyle sweater-vest he was wearing.

“I’m allergic to cats, for starters. We don’t need a kitten. Scab will probably accidentally run it over. You’re gonna have to pay for food for it. That’s about four reasons right there.” Jeet folded his arms and waited for Blas to protest.

“Oh.” Blas let the kitten dig into the crook of his ruined arm, reaching his hand up to skritch behind oversized ears. “Can I at least take her home for the night?”

Jeet deflated, so ready for an argument that hadn’t come. “Yeah. I guess.”

—

“You wanna keep this thing?” Scab was stretched out on the couch, watching as the kitten tried unsuccessfully to attack its own shadow. From behind them came a series of sneezes followed by quiet curses. “It’s sorta an idiot.”

“Her name is Remington, and she’s just a baby. She doesn’t know any better.” Blas smiled softly and ran his fingers over the ground for her to chase.

Scab grunted, undoing the tie holding his sweat pants up and pulling the braided string out of the fabric so he could dangle it in the black puff ball’s face. She pounced immediately, intent on killing that string dead. “Fearsome.”

“We’re not keeping it.” Jeet glared from the dining table where he was sorting paperwork.

Blas scooped up the kitten and headed down the hallway, “Don’t listen to them Remy.”

“We’re not keeping it.” Grumbled to himself as Jeet grudgingly returned to his work.

Scab narrowed his eyes as Blas disappeared into the bathroom, annoyed that his evening routine of groping and harassing him was being interrupted by a lint ball with teeth. “He seems to really like it.”

“Not. Keeping. It.”

“You really want to see him cry when you make him give it up?”

He hadn’t considered that and Jeet looked up sharply. While he was glad that Blas had latched onto a cat this time instead of another person, he had his limits. Not to mention the feeling of jealousy creeping in; he wanted Blas all to himself, he didn’t enjoy sharing even with Scab. And this would just be something else to divide up Blas’ time.

“He’s gonna spend all his time petting that thing instead of me.” Pouting, Scab started to work the tie back into his pants, focusing on that instead of his neediness.

Scab had voiced Jeet’s major concern: Blas would devote all his free time to playing and interacting with the kitten, ignoring both of them. He selfishly wanted the kitten gone, but he also didn’t want to risk an upset Blas who was mad at him.

Jeet hadn’t quite figured out how to verbalize that to Scab when Blas trudged back into the room putting a wadded up towel on the table opposite the papers. Even crotchety Jeet had to crack a smile as a very bedraggled kitten struggled out of the towel and tried to walk on wet paws without touching anything.

“I gave her a bath. She didn’t like it much.” Blas ruffled her fur, making it spike up and point in all directions.

“Why?”

Blas wrinkled his nose, squinting at Scab, “She smelled like you do when you don’t bathe.”

“I smell great! Manly and intimidating.”

Jeet rolled his eyes, poking the kitten’s nose with the end of his pen. Going cross-eyed she stumbled over her feet, trying to sit down and paw at the pen but ultimately falling over in an uncoordinated heap. Alright, this thing was kind of amusing. But not practical at all.

As if he could read his mind Blas reached out to prop the kitten up again, “When she’s bigger she’ll catch mice. Keep them out of the garage.”

“You can’t keep bringing home every stray you find.”

Scab from the couch glared at the both of them. “Hey… HEY!”

Jeet smirked, gathering up his papers so the kitten didn’t drip water all over them as she clumsily tried to attack the pen again, “Blas had to bathe you both, we found you in boxes, and you both tore up the couch. I don’t see the difference.”

Scab sputtered and Blas went to go console him, leaving Jeet with the kitten who was fully intent on destroying his pen.

“Leave me the fuck alone.” Scab shoved at Blas before rolling off the couch and twisting up onto his palms. “You just want something pathetic to take care of and then lose interest.”

Stunned, Blas could only stare, unsure what to say. “Scab, it’s not like that. Scab!” He followed along as Scab crawled down the hall into the bedroom.

Sighing softly, Jeet picked up the kitten and held it to eye level, “Look at all the trouble you’re causing.” The only response he got was a small meow and a paw reaching out to bat at a strand of hair that had fallen into his face. He sneezed again, groaning and rubbing his red eyes with the back of his wrist. Still grumbling he tucked the kitten into the cargo pocket of his shorts, leaving the flap open so it could pop its head out and went in search of the others.

Blas had trapped Scab in the hallway by sitting on his back, arms wrapped around his shoulders and face nuzzled into his neck. He was whispering soft things to Scab but Jeet couldn’t make out the words, only the grunting replies Scab gave, clearly annoyed. Scab was so testy, but he’d not been mad at Blas before, usually he was bitter and angry at the world in general or at something Jeet had done or said. Never Blas.

Kneeling down in front of them, Jeet just stared, unsure what to do to make this better. Scab was agitated, shifting around and acting like he was ready to start towards the bedroom again at any moment, but Blas was tucked tight against him, breathing heavy with his face hidden in the man’s neck.

Eventually he settled on just putting his hand on Scab’s shoulder. He’d never been any good at apologizing, especially to someone as volatile as Scab. “How about some dinner?”

Scab looked up at him, “I’m not making you nothing.” He swiped at the kitten as it crawled out of the man’s pocket, but missed.

Making a shocked noise, Blas cuffed him across the back of the head, hard enough to mash his face into the carpet.

“Knock it off.” Jeet grabbed onto the kitten, glaring at the two of them. “We’re getting all riled up over half a pound of fluff.”

“He started it!”

“Shut up Scab. Blas, get off him. Give this thing a bowl of water and lock it in the bathroom. We’re going to get food.” He shoved the squirmy cat at Blas and then wrapped his arms around Scab to drag him into the bedroom.

Blas busied himself getting a box with a blanket in it for the kitten and making sure she was comfortable while Scab tried to resist being picked up by going limp and being dead weight in Jeet’s arms.

“C'mon Scab. Stop being so dramatic. You’re not being replaced by a stupid cat. Get clothes on so we can go somewhere nicer than the pizza place.”

“You don’t eat things nicer than pizza.” Scab sullenly crawled to his dresser and pulled open a drawer, rifling through his meager collection of shirts and pants.

Jeet crossed his arms and watched, knowing that it embarrassed Scab to have someone in the room when he was getting dressed. “Keep that up and you’ll never see me eat things nicer than pizza.”

Grabbing a pair of pants, Scab stared up at Jeet, waiting for him to leave.

And waiting.

And waiting.

Realizing that Jeet wasn’t going anywhere, Scab pointedly stared at the ground before awkwardly crawling out of his sweats. Then struggled to sit up so he could drag pants onto numb legs, all while pretending that Jeet didn’t exist. Jeet’s eyes softened and he sat down behind Scab, not helping him, but being a backrest that he could leverage himself against so he didn’t fall. Scab froze, tensing up and peering at him over his shoulder.

Silence stretched between them as Jeet cautiously wrapped his arms around Scab’s stomach, holding him in place so he could lean forward without losing his balance, but he was tense, expecting Scab to elbow him in the side and knock him away. A few deep breaths and Scab seemed to have accepted his presence, carefully bunching up his jeans onto his thumbs so he could loop them over his toes.

It was hard for Jeet to not take over and do it for him, especially when Scab started to struggle and pant. But he knew that Scab would resent that, probably shove him away and start yelling again. He pulled a shirt out of the dresser and worked it over Scab’s head, leaning forward and tightening his grip around his chest, resting his chin on Scab’s shoulder.

“You gonna play nice at dinner?”

Scab made a disgruntled sound, twisting around to shove his arms out the armholes of his shirt. “I guess.”

“Good. We’ll go someplace nice. You need to get out of the house more, you’re going kinda stir crazy in here.”

“S'not like I have anything to do. Or can get out of the house.”

Jeet flinched. “Yeah yeah. I know. I’m working on it.”

Scab wriggled a little, leaning back against Jeet and closing his eyes. He always did better when he was getting attention, needing constant validation. “You could let me come to work with you. I’m useful. I can do shit.”

“Working on that too.”

Blas came up behind them, kneeling down behind Jeet and trying to wrap his arms around them both. “What are you guys doing?”

“Nothing. Come on, help me get Scab in the car.”

—

Scab stared down at the menu in his hands, silently seething that Jeet had told him he couldn’t kill some kid who’d laughed at his wheelchair while in the parking lot. Arguments that strangling him to death would have worked up an appetite went unheeded as Jeet had shoved him towards the entrance of the restaurant. Completely oblivious to how close he came to witnessing the premeditated murder of an eight-year old, Blas happily sat across from him, spreading butter onto a slice of fresh bread.

True to his word, Jeet had taken them somewhere substantially nicer than the pizza place. It was still a generic chain restaurant, but it was a steak house, and there were servers, and Blas was discovering the joy of never ending rolls and soda.

“Some of the things on this menu are more than $5 you know.”

“Shut up, Scab.” Jeet rolled his eyes, having already braced himself for spending more on this meal than he normally did on food in a week. “Order something you like, this ain’t gonna happen again anytime soon.”

On his best behavior, Scab barely even oogled the waitress as she came to take their order. He really was going stir crazy at home, just seeing people was good for him. Not that his dinner companions were being very good company. Jeet was never that talkative, but he’d barely spoken this entire trip, eyeing everyone around them as if daring them to say anything about this.

And then Blas asked, “Are we on a date?”

Taken by surprise, Jeet nearly spat out a mouthful of beer.

Scab smiled at Blas, “Don’t scare him like that, he has to drive us home after dinner.”

Jeet choked and sputtered while Blas glanced between them confused. “What’d I say?”

“You’re gonna give him a heart attack.” Scab reached out and rubbed Jeet’s shoulder as he hunched up, looking like a man who was drowning and wanting to be anywhere but here. “Relax Boss.”

“I don’t get it.”

Jeet groaned and ran his hands through his fringe of hair, “Just.. not right now Blas.”

Blas was utterly confused, but he silently sat there munching on a bread roll as Scab patted Jeet’s arm reassuringly. “You can’t blame him boss, you’re all dressed up for the first time. Wearing a shirt that doesn’t have an ad for fishing rods.”

“Shut it Scab or this’ll be the last time too.”

Smirking, Scab kept silent, poking through his salad to eat all the croutons and none of the vegetables. He didn’t want to push Jeet too far, he could see how riled up he was; either from what had happened with the kitten or because he thought everyone in the restaurant was staring at them. And they had been at first, it wasn’t every day they saw a guy with face tattoos in a wheelchair, but now the novelty had worn off and they had all gone back to ignoring the three of them and concentrating on their own dinners.

Jeet looked marginally happier as their food was served, shaking his head as Scab dug into a plate of ribs and made a complete mess. “I can’t take you nowhere.”

Smiling a barbecue splattered grin Scab licked his lips, “Gotta enjoy it while I can.”

By contrast Blas delicately dipped some breaded shrimp into cocktail sauce, one of the few things on the menu he could easily eat one-handed. He licked his fingers clean before tossing a stack of napkins at Scab, "You’re so gross.“

Shoving a rib in Blas’ face Scab replied with his mouth full, "Try it.”

Blas hesitated, “I can’t hold onto that. I’ll just drop it on myself.”

“Oh. Right.”

Scab pulled the meat back as Jeet silently cut part of his steak into cubes and shifted them onto Blas’ plate, taking a shrimp for himself. Jeet sometimes forgot about the things that were difficult for Blas, Scab’s disability was so much more obvious that it overshadowed nearly everything else. Most of the time he was so hyperfocused on his business that the things he needed to do to accommodate them just fell to the side. He mentally made a note to be better about that. At least this was a good start, provided Scab didn’t try to fight any more children.

Following suit, Scab peeled chunks of meat off a rib with his fingers setting them on the edge of his plate. “Trade you this for one of your shrimp.”

“I dunno. These are pretty good shrimp.” He picked up one of the bits of steak and popped it into his mouth with a half smirk.

“This and a scoop of corn?”

“Deal.”

Jeet watched fondly as they exchanged food, marveling that they could be so casual when they were out in public being conspicuous. He hated going anywhere, convinced everyone was a potential government official stalking him. They all knew his secrets. They were all just waiting to expose him. Sometimes his paranoia got the best of him despite his best efforts to push it down.

And no one was more obvious than Scab. It was hard to blend in when you were pushing the wheelchair of a loudmouth gangster with tattooed stripes on his face. They were relaxed and happy now, even though Scab had been mad at Blas less than an hour before. Scab’s moods changed with the tides.

“This is so much nicer than the pizza place.” said as Blas cheerfully stabbed kernels of corn with a fork.

“Because it costs five times as much.”

Fifteen napkins deep, Scab was wiping his face and fingers clean, “Worth it.”

“I told you not to get used to it.”

Blas shrugged, “Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it now. Besides, you never do anything or go anywhere. You need to get out more, it’s good for you.”

He gnashed his teeth, that was identical to what he’d been thinking about Scab. His eyes flicked to the gangster who looked like he was going to say something snarky before shutting his mouth. Finally Jeet responded, “Yeah. Guess so.”

Maybe this wasn’t so bad. Aside from the atrocious prices anyway. The chances that the other diners were going to jump out and start waving subpoenas at him were relatively slim. Blas and Scab were both enjoying themselves; and as for himself he hadn’t had a steak in years and it was as delicious as he remembered.

But he couldn’t help the groan as the waitress dropped off a dessert menu and Blas reached for it. For how scrawny he was, Blas could eat his weight in ice cream. This was gonna be more expensive than he thought. Trying to head off that line of thinking he took a deep breath, hundreds of people went out to eat every day, why was this so difficult for him?

He’d worked hard for his money dammit, he should be able to enjoy it. Provided they didn’t start sharing milkshakes like teenagers, he could do this. 

—

“What’s the bell for?” Scab reached a finger out to stroke the chin of the kitten, now sporting a glittery pink collar with a small bell. It tinkled softly as she purred and started to knead her claws into his chest.

Blas shrugged, unwrapping a food dish featuring cartoon images of fish skeletons. “I dunno. It came with the collar.”

Glaring from the corner Jeet had his arms folded, watching all this, wondering where his life had taken such a turn. “It’s so she don’t kill birds. That’s what cats do. They kill things. And shed. Tear up furniture. Cost money.”

“You’ll like her once she starts bringing you mice and being useful.”

Jeet just grunted.

“What’s she doing?” Scab winced, and picked up her paws in an effort to stop her assault on his skin.

“That means she likes you!”

Scab stared at the small furry blob on his chest. “Oh.” He skritched her ears a bit, almost smiling at the deep rumbly purr from such a tiny creature. “I think she’s not running on all pistons. Got a faulty carburetor in there. Needs a tune up.”

“She needs her shots. But I don’t think that’ll make her purr any better.” Blas jiggled a bowl of kibble and set it on the ground next to some water, smiling as she came over to investigate and start crunching the food.

Jeet watched disapprovingly, “I guess I gotta pay for that too don’t I?”

“I’ll work for it. I can pay for her.”

Jeet finally relented, going to sit on the couch with Scab instead of being a scowling entity in the corner. Scab happily settled his head into Jeet’s lap, burying his face in the man’s stomach.

Sighing, Jeet stroked Scab’s head, wondering how he kept getting into situations like this. “We’ll figure it out. Provided I don’t sneeze myself to death.”

Blas came to sit with them, wrapping his arms around Jeet’s middle. “Is it really that bad? I could brush her.”

“I don’t think that’ll fix it Blas.” He rubbed at his eyes again before setting his hand on the scrawny chemist’s shoulder. “It’s not the fur. Well the fur isn’t helping, and she’s longhair so she’s gonna be a puffball. I’m just allergic to cats.”

“We could shave her.”

“We’re not shaving a cat, Scab.”

Blas flicked his ear, “I better not come home from work to find her naked.”

“Alright alright, I won’t shave her. I’m just trying to solve problems here.”

Jeet sneezed again and flopped back against the couch, closing his eyes and letting his head hang against the cushions. Scab and Blas took the opportunity to cuddle even closer, squashing him into the middle of a sandwich that was bony on one side and all muscular on the other.

Scab patted his chest and made a clicking noise, encouraging the kitten to jump back up and join them. Remington obliged, walking round and round before curling into a ball and disappearing into a sphere of poofy fur.

Jeet wrapped his arms around the men cuddled on each side of him, not opening his eyes, not wanting to see confirmation of the position they were in, sentimental and soft. Blas reached out for the remote, flipping channels until he found a movie.

Smirking, Scab tilted his head to look up at Jeet, “Now we’re on a date.”

Jeet groaned as they both squeezed him. “Do we gotta word it like that?”

“Just accept it Boss.”

Another disgruntled noise, but Jeet didn’t move. Continuing to sit there with his eyes closed.

Accepting it.


End file.
